Same Ianto, Different Jack
Chapter 18
by Gracefultree
A/N: Short chapter here, but I know you all want to see what happens in the story. Enjoy!
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Ianto was moments away from sleep after an unusually good shag with New Jack when every single item of technology in the bunker, as well as both vortex manipulators, screamed to life, beeping and buzzing and vibrating. Through the racket, he could hear the main Rift flare warning, as well as Mainframe's voice.
"Alert! Alert! Jones Omega Rift flare detected. 98% accuracy. Time, ten minutes. Location, cell 27. Repeat: Jones Omega Rift flare detected. 98% accuracy. Time, ten minutes. Location, cell 27."
Ianto jerked into a sitting position, dislodging New Jack from where he was dozing half on top of him. "Shit. I have to go!" he declared. He climbed out of bed and pulled on the first pair of boxers he could find on the floor, which happened to be New Jack's, while New Jack deactivated the noise. He moved to the wardrobe and started dressing in his favorite suit, knowing His Jack would appreciate the effort, since he had time to dress properly. It would only take four minutes, after all.
"Wait!" New Jack shouted. He stood, grabbed Ianto's shoulder, and pulled him into a desperate kiss. "I love you."
Ianto kissed New Jack in return, then finished buckling his belt. "I love you, too, but I have to go. I'm sorry."
"I know. It's ok. I'll be fine. Take this," he said, handing Ianto a sealed envelope he grabbed from a box he pulled out from under the bed. It was addressed to 'Ianto's Jack' in New Jack's elegant copperplate handwriting. "Tell that bastard from me he's one lucky son of a bitch and to accept what you're offering."
"I will. Thank you for everything." Ianto smiled sadly, tasting New Jack's tears as they kissed one final time. Or maybe they were his own tears. He shoved the letter in his suit jacket pocket and scrambled up the ladder and into the main Hub. Gathering a few bits of tech he thought he might use, he also grabbed a bottle of water and guzzled it, remembering New Jack's lessons in time (and Rift) travel about staying hydrated.
"Time to Jones Omega Rift flare: five minutes," Mainframe declared. Ianto tossed the empty bottle aside and started running. It would take three and a half minutes to get to the cell, which would give him enough time to settle the carryall on his back and wave goodbye to New Jack through the CCTV. New Jack deserved that much, after a year of being together. He was glad they'd had time time during the last two weeks for Ianto to learn how to work the vortex manipulator.
In the two and a half years he'd worked at Torchwood Three, both in his universe and the new universe, Ianto could never remember a time when it took so long to get to the cells. He took every shortcut he could, but it was no use. By the time he reached the proper hallway, Mainframe was counting down from thirty seconds. He added a burst of speed.
The air of the corridor seemed to get thinner and thinner as he approached the cell where he'd placed all his hopes and dreams for getting home, making him gasp for breath and oxygen. He had to get home. He had to get back to His Jack. He felt the fabric of the world changing around him. The stones of the hallway seemed to melt into each other. The floor changed from stone to metal to sand to dirt and back to stone. Lightning flashed, momentarily blinding him, but he didn't let that stop him. His feet knew this corridor better than any other, and he could navigate it in the dark, if he needed to. He took his last three steps on thin air, gravity momentarily deserting him. He reached for his carryall, floating in front on him, clutching it to him as hard as he could. For all he knew, he wouldn't make it home, and what he had with him was all that would keep him alive.
He prayed.
Bright white light enveloped him. Brighter than anything he could imagine. Brighter than the lightning. Brighter than staring into the sun. His eyes melted, vitreous fluid running down his cheeks in a parody of the tears he just shed for having to leave New Jack. His ears started bleeding as noise overwhelmed him, a strange combination of screams, the screech of metal against metal, explosions and the horrific sound of bones breaking. Excruciating pain. He knew it was his own bones that were breaking.
He screamed.
Super-heated smoke filled his lungs, making him cough and choke. He felt maggots crawling around on his skin, digging in, biting, trying to eat him. I'm not dead yet! he shouted in his mind, the only place that seemed free of pain. He smelled his own hair burning. Jack. I have to get back to Jack!
He heard the saws before he felt them, a screaming buzz that took any illusion of safety away from him. He was at Canary Wharf, and he was being converted. He felt the fire in his veins as the machine replaced his blood with metallic fluids. He felt his body being realigned, metal replacing flesh. He heard the screams of the others, his friends and colleagues. Lisa. She was next to him, screaming, begging to be killed, her voice becoming more robotic as the conversion continued. No! He couldn't let it happen again. Not to her! Not again!
He struggled against his restraints, breaking free, only to find himself in the Hub. Jack pointed a gun at him, shouting I won't let you convert anyone! I'll kill you where you stand! But that was all wrong. Ianto wasn't the Cyberman, Lisa was. Only it hadn't really been Lisa. She'd died in London, and all he'd brought to the Hub was an empty shell that manipulated him with her voice and memories. But now, inexplicably, she was standing next to Jack, whole, beautiful, tugging on Jack's arm, begging him not to shoot Ianto because she loved him. He could be cured, she shouted. The conversion hadn't been finished. He was still himself.
Jack fired, the bullet piercing Ianto's eye, killing him cleanly.
Daleks appeared, shooting wildly at everyone, taking down person after person, killing indiscriminately, their howls of Exterminate! Exterminate! sending shivers of fear down his spine. He was back at the Battle, only this wasn't Canary Wharf or Torchwood Tower, but a different Battle, one that needed to be won at all costs or the universe itself would die a slow and painful death at the hands of the Daleks. He was on some kind of space station, and the people were unarmed and terrified. Ianto saw the blast from the Dalek before it hit him, a blue-white light that looked remarkably like the Rift flare. Jack jumped in front of it, screaming at Ianto to run, goddam you! His body was outlined in blue, his skeleton visible for all to see in a parody of an x-ray that chilled Ianto to the bone. Ianto ran. He didn't look back. He felt the electric shock and knew he was dying even as he saw his own hand outlined in blue.
Fire, burning, death, worlds dying. He saw Earth explode. He saw a meteor hit the planet, killing all life. He felt himself die, over and over again, each death more horrible than the last. He clutched at his carryall and the vortex manipulator on his wrist whenever he could feel them, chanting Jack's name over and over, whenever he had the breath to do it. If the Rift was kind, it would bring him home.
His feet touched the ground.